


Cosmic Love

by AsphodeleSauvage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Badly Written Smut, Episode: s15e18 Despair - Castiel's Confession Scene, Finale What Finale, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Jack Kline as God, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Smut, Spanish Dub Is Canon, The Finale isn't canon, post 15x18
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:21:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28320801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsphodeleSauvage/pseuds/AsphodeleSauvage
Summary: Even saying "I love you" back to Cas wasn't enough to stop the Empty from taking Cas. And Dean is trying to live and to honor Castiel's sacrifice - he IS. But he can't do it, not without Cas, not when they could have had so much more. Fuck the cosmic rules - he's going to save Cas from the Empty, he's going to have Cas back, and he's going to show Cas how loved he is.~Title from "Cosmic Love" by Florence + the Machine
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 18
Kudos: 156





	Cosmic Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HalRose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HalRose/gifts).



> Hey bbcalamity! Remember that time when you asked me to tag you if I ended up writing the Destiel smutty fic I wanted to write? And remember how you wrote two lovely Destiel fics for me? Well, I did write the Destiel smutty fic eventually. And I want to give it to you, for Christmas. Merry Christmas!  
> This fic is based on the Spanish Dub Canon - that is to say, the fact that Dean said "and I you" (y yo a ti, Cas) to Cas in the Spanish dub of the love confession scene. (For those who don't know: translators don't invent content. This sentence was in the script that was given to the dubbing company.)  
> Also, it's my very first attempt at smut, and this wasn't beta'd. This is probably very badly written. Please forgive me.

_And in the dark, I can hear your heartbeat  
_ _I tried to find the sound  
_ _But then it stopped, and I was in the darkness,  
_ _So darkness I became_

 _The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out  
_ _You left me in the dark  
_ _No dawn, no day, I'm always in this twilight  
_ _In the shadow of your heart_

 _I took the stars from our eyes, and then I made a map  
_ _And knew that somehow I could find my way back  
_ _Then I heard your heart beating, you were in the darkness too  
_ _So I stayed in the darkness with you_

[ **"Cosmic Love," Florence + the Machine** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2EIeUlvHAiM)

* * *

_“I love you.”_

_Cas was looking at him, smiling and crying at the same time, and Dean couldn’t move._

_He didn’t understand. How had they come from ‘death is banging at our door’ to ‘I love you’?_

_It was... it was too much. Too much info. Dean’s brain couldn’t process._

_They were going to die – Cas had made a deal – he could never be happy – he wanted something he could never have (what thing?) – the Empty – he thought Dean was ‘the most caring man on Earth’ – he loved him._

He loves me, he loves me, he loves me.

_And he was smiling, the son of a bitch, as if he hadn’t just said all that Dean never wanted to hear – ‘I made a deal, Dean’ – and all that he never thought he’d hear – ‘I cared because of you,’ ‘you’re not’ – and all he had always wanted to hear – ‘I love you.’_

_Death was coming for them, she was banging at the door, and Dean stood there, paralysed, horrified, because he had what he wanted, what he never thought he could have, and it was all about to be ripped from him before it even began._

_“Me too, Cas.”_

_He said it back. Of course he said it back. What else could he say? It was simply the truth, he’d known that for some time now. The words left his mouth in the most natural way, because, truth be told, they had only waited for Cas’s permission to come out. A simple admission of the truth between them. A plea. ‘Don’t do this, Cas. Don’t leave me. Don’t die. Stay. Please, stay with me.’_

_Cas couldn’t go, Cas couldn’t die, not like that..._

_Cas smiled, surprised and awed and happy. He didn’t know. And now that Dean had said the words Cas was happy, they made him fucking happy and this was going to be Cas’s death, and Dean hated himself._

_And then Cas grabbed him by the shoulders. Dean stupidly thought that Cas was about to kiss him, but instead he was yanked to the other end of the room, against a wall. “Goodbye, Dean.”_

_It couldn’t be happening. No. It couldn’t. NO!_

_Dean had to watch as Cas was swallowed by black goo – first his luminous smile, then the happy tears running down his cheeks, and then his beautiful eyes, and then there was nothing left of Cas._

_Dean remained alone and silent in an empty room, tears trickling down his cheeks._

_Death was gone, Cas was gone, his heart was gone._

_Cas loved him back, and it was too late._

_‘Me too, Cas, me too. You can have it. You can have it all. Of course you can have it. I’m yours. I’ve always been yours. I’ll always be yours.’_

_If only – if only there hadn’t been this stupid deal, Dean could have done it all. He could have said the words and kissed Cas senseless, and then..._

_Then they could have had it all. The kisses, the smiles, the taste of Cas on his lips, the caresses, the coffee in the mornings, the hand-holding, the stolen bedcovers and the icy feet, the laundry folding, the laughing, the lazy mornings in their bed and the sleepy nights on the sofa, Cas’s arms around him, Dean’s fingers in his untamed black hair, the secrets whispered in each other’s ears, the feeling of skin on skin, the lovemaking, the bickering, the love, all of it._

_It could have been theirs._

_It should have been theirs._

* * *

Dean waited all of one week after they defeated Chuck.

He tried to go on, he really tried, but how could he, when Cas’s last moments played in his head on a loop? He knew he was _supposed_ to make something out of Cas’s sacrifice, to just... live and be happy and whatever shit Cas wanted for him, but it was just impossible.

When Dean woke up in the morning, he immediately thought that Cas should be there, next to him. When Miracle jumped on his bed and Dean hugged him, all he heard was Cas’s voice -- ‘Good things do happen, Dean’ -- and the scream in his head -- ‘then if miracles happen why aren’t you back, Cas?’ When he got down to the kitchen every morning and made food and walked to the war room and went on with his day, there was nothing but Cas’s deafening silence. Sometimes it was easy to imagine that he was simply away on a mission, as usual, but it was not as if Dean had ever liked it when Cas was away. (And the time was gone when Dean actively pretended that he was fine when Cas wasn’t there and that he didn’t care that much about him anyway.)

Maybe Dean could accept it, if he didn’t know what the Empty was.

No way he was leaving Cas -- Cas, who confessed his love to him, Cas, with whom he had never had a chance to begin what they both wanted -- in this slimy Mega Hell where he’d dream about his regrets forever. Nope. Not happening. Plus Dean met the Empty, and that wasn’t good company.

He wouldn’t leave Cas alone in an empty hell, suffering forever, and never getting to experience the love he deserved, the love Dean was finally ready to give him.

They deserved a chance.

So that night, he bade Sam and Eileen a good night, smiling as if nothing was up, and he walked to his room. Then he prayed.

All in all, Jack was pretty quick to come.

He looked unchanged. He still wore his white jacket and he still saluted Dean with his trademark awkward handwave (God was a fucking three-year-old. Damn). He still looked like Cas, too, so much that Dean sometimes wondered if Jack wasn’t actually Cas’s secret lovechild or something. The only thing different was the subtle glow about him -- something pure and holy and divine, that Chuck had never possessed once in his pathetic existence.

“Hello, Dean,” Jack said, beaming.

“Hi, Jack,” he answered awkwardly.

Should he hug the kid or…? Jack was God after all, he might not like it. And Dean had been nothing but horrible to him all this time. Looking back on it, Dean didn’t even know why. It was just Jack, shy, nice, innocent little Jack, who made terrible mistakes but who wasn’t a bad kid. Dean hated himself for what he’d done to him, and because of that, he went and hugged Jack.

The kid didn’t seem to mind, if the way he hugged Dean back was any clue. He would have to make sure Jack came home very, very often.

“How’re things going in Heaven?”

They chatted a little bit about it all -- Jack’s reforms in Heaven, the new angels he was planning on making -- until Jack asked the dreaded question. “Why did you want to see me?”

“Well. I know you’re busy--”

“I still have time for my family, don’t worry, Dean,” Jack said, beaming.

“It’s about Cas.”

Jack grew serious all of a sudden. “Of course. Cas.” His tone was one of sadness and resentment, not unlike Dean’s, and Dean wondered why it had taken him so much time to call Jack, when Jack was possibly the only one who felt this loss as acutely as him.

“Dean, I -- I know about the curse. That the Empty would take Cas if Cas was… happy.” Jack looked down on his hands. He was toying with his fingers in an embarrassed manner.

“Yeah.” That was all Dean could find to say. His mouth felt dry all of a sudden. He hadn’t known how to tell Sam about it all, but if Jack knew -- “He told me that he loved me. That was his happiness -- being in love and saying it.”

“Oh.” Jack looked up at him, looking pained and compassionate. “I’m so sorry, Dean.”

“I told him I loved him too.”

Dean didn’t know why he felt such a need to spill the beans, but here they were. The truth was said, once again. Perhaps it was because he needed someone to know and to understand that he hadn’t only lost Cas, he had lost _everything_. Or perhaps because now that he’d said the truth once, he needed to say it again, and Cas wasn’t there to hear the words.

Jack’s look was one of surprise, mingled with joy. “I’m sure it made him very happy.”

“ _Too_ damn happy,” Dean mumbled. “So happy that the Empty took him.”

Jack nodded, looking down once again.

“It’s not fair, Jack.” It should have been an explosion of rage, a scream, but all that came out was a pleading, broken whisper. “He should be alive. He should be happy. And -- and I think I could make him happy. I don’t deserve it, and I don’t understand how he could even be happy with me, but -- but that’s what he said. We can’t leave him there. He needs to come back. To have a real life.”

_With me. If he wants to._

Those words were left unspoken. They felt too intimate. They were something Cas should get to hear, not their kid.

“We need to bring him back,” he concluded.

His voice was more forceful, yet it was still trembling. He was too miserable to even be ashamed about it, though.

Jack made this frowny face he always made when he was embarrassed.

“Dean… I can’t bring Cas back.”

Dean felt his heart sink.

“Yeah? And why not?”

Well. He still knew how to be aggressive, it seemed.

“It’s not that I don’t _want_ to,” Jack said, his eyes big and sad. “I want to. Cas deserves better. But I’m God now, and that’s not something I’m allowed to do. I can’t… snap my fingers and bring him back. For one, I’m not supposed to intervene in human affairs anymore. And the Empty won’t let that happen.”

“Chuck did it before. Why not you?” He was back to begging again.

“The Empty is… different now. More powerful. More aggressive. Even if I could, I’m not sure taking Cas from them would be a good idea. I’m negotiating with them right now,” Jack added. “They want to attack Heaven, I want to get some angels back to prevent Heaven from falling, and the Empty needs to be put back to sleep but it’s… complicated.”

“Politics. You can’t bring Cas back because of _politics_?” Disappointment and anger left a bitter taste in Dean’s mouth.

“I’m sorry, Dean.”

“And because you don’t want to _intervene_?” Dean growled. “Cas died in the war against Chuck. This isn’t a normal death. That’s -- that’s cosmic shit right there! That you can intervene in!”

“The Empty will never let Cas go, even if I manage to bring other angels back,” Jack said sadly.

“I don’t care,” Dean said through his teeth. “We’ve -- we’ve ended Chuck’s reign and freed the whole universe, Sam, Cas and I. Don’t you think Cas deserves a ‘thank you’ present? Like, you know, being alive?”

“I _know_ ,” Jack whispered softly. “I can’t bring him back.” But then he looked Dean in the eye, and smiled. “But you can.”

Dean’s heart leapt in his chest, and dropped.

“I - what?"

“I can’t bring Cas back myself,” Jack explained. He was positively beaming. “But I can… open a rift to the Empty, and if someone were to cross it and bring someone back… I guess it wouldn’t be my fault. After all, the Empty is disturbed right now, they could accidentally leave a portal open. Actually, it’s been happening recently. They leave portals open everywhere -- it’s another problem we have to deal with.”

Dean couldn’t believe his ears. He let out a laugh that was half-mirth and half-surprised. “You’ve been thinking about this for some time, huh, kid?”

Jack smiled right back. “I have. I was just waiting for you to ask me.” His smile disappeared. “It would be extremely dangerous, though, Dean. You’re human, so I don’t believe the Empty could harm you, but after I exploded in it… I don’t know what they can do. And they won’t let Cas go without a fight. I can’t guarantee Cas will make it back.”

“I have to try,” Dean said, surer than he’d ever been in his life. “I’ll take the risk.”

Jack nodded, his smile tight. “Alright, then.”

He closed his eyes and waved his hand in front of him, intensely focused. After a few minutes, _something_ formed that Dean recognized on sight. Pitch black, bubbly, slimey.

“Do I need anything?” he asked. “Weapons… anything?”

Jack shook his head. “I don’t think so. You already have what you need. That’s why you’re the only one who can do it.”

“How will I find Cas?”

Jack smiled. “I told you, the answer is here.” He laid his hand on his heart, and Dean’s own heart leapt in answer as he thought about the words Cas had said. _I love you._ “It’s the only light you need.”

He’d only been God for what, a week? and he’d already learnt how to speak riddles. Great.

Jack stood up, as if to leave, and then he squeaked. “We have a _dog_?!”

Well. Three years old.

“Name’s Miracle,” Dean said, and he wanted to ask more questions, but Jack was busy petting Miracle and playing with him. (“You’re so pretty!”)

Dean shrugged, and walked right in through the black rift.

* * *

‘The only light you need,’ huh? Well that was fucking sweet but not very helpful, since Dean saw nothing but pitch black. He couldn’t even see his own hands.

Fuck.

He took a deep breath. No. Jack had said he had everything he needed. Jack didn’t have a doubt that Dean would find Cas -- he wasn’t sure Cas would be able to come back, but he was sure Dean would find Cas. That meant Dean could.

Deep breath in, deep breath out.

What did Jack say? “The answer is in your heart”? That was what Jack had said about faith and the divine being in everything, too. So what did it mean? Did it mean faith? Or love?

Maybe both, Dean decided. He closed his eyes and focused. Faith. He never had much faith to begin with. But this wasn’t God -- Chuck -- this was Jack. And it was Cas. Cas always told him that good things did happen. And a good thing had happened, hadn’t it? They’d fallen in love. Cas was the best thing ever to happen to Dean. Love. He could think about Cas, like a sailor thinks of a beacon. He could pray to Cas. Call him. It wasn’t that hard. Dean’s heart was beating the rhythm of Cas' name already -- had been ever since that fateful day, had been since forever, if Dean was honest with himself, and he was done lying. _Happiness is in just being. It’s in just saying it._ Maybe he could focus on that, focus on Cas and on his love for Cas only, and let it guide him. Saying it could help too, perhaps. “Cas. Me too.”

He opened his eyes, and he almost recoiled in shock. It was still pitch dark, sure, but it was no longer empty. There were bodies -- people -- lying around everywhere, fast asleep. Thousands and thousands of people -- demons and angels, probably. Millions, most likely.

Well.

Where to?

He would scream Cas’ name and wait for an answer, but he was afraid the Empty would hear him in the deafening silence and stop him. He needed to do something else.

 _Cas_ , he called in his mind, praying ardently, like he had prayed in Purgatory. _Cas. Cas, where are you? It’s me. It’s Dean. Cas? Cas? Cas?_

It took some time, but sure enough, he heard something. It was weak and barely audible, but he heard it. _Dean?_

So he followed the voice.

_Cas? Cas, keep talking. Cas?_

_Dean?_

_Cas, it’s me._

_You can’t be here._

_I am._

_It’s a dream._

_No it’s not._

He was desperate to convince Cas, but even if Cas didn’t believe him, the most important thing was that Dean could follow the voice.

It was absurd, he shouldn’t be able to follow it. Cas was probably using telepathy or some angelic trick. But Dean could hear it all the same -- it was louder if he stepped in the right direction, lower if he made a mistake.

He hated this place. His being there felt unnatural, forbidden, unholy. He could feel the portal Jack had opened calling him back, to the land of living humans where he belonged. Couldn’t that stupid portal understand that he belonged here, because that was where Cas was and hiw heart, his soul, his body, his entire body belonged with Cas?

His right shoulder was burning, where Cas had first gripped him twelve years before. Was it his imagination? Or was it real?

And finally, finally, he could see it. Cas’ body, lying on the invisible dark floor, fast asleep, dead and haunted.

Dean dropped to his knees immediately. “Cas,” he whispered, pushing away the dark hair on Cas’ forehead.

He was taken back to Jack’s birth, when he had found Cas’ dead body. He could remember every moment of it. It haunted his nightmares, after all. The limp body, the light gone, Cas gone…

But they were in Super Hell for angels and demons, and Cas was there. He looked dead but he was only asleep.

Only asleep. Dean could wake him up.

His fingers were trembling as he trailed them on Cas’s face. He had never really dared to do it before. Hands were safer on cloth than on skin. The skin was soft though. But cold. Dean knew that once Cas would be alive again, this skin would feel warm under his worshipping touch.

“Cas,” he said, softly. “Rise and shine, Cas. It’s time to wake up.”

He propped Cas up, cradling him. His hand stroked the black unruly hair and his other hand intertwined with Cas’ as he spoke. “Wake up, Cas,” he whispered, close to his ear so that no one but his angel could hear. “It’s me. I’m bringing you home. Wake up.”

Cas needed to wake up, and quickly. The Empty was probably busy elsewhere but it wouldn’t last. Good things rarely do.

“Please,” he whispered, and his eyes burned with tears. “Cas, I need you.” But it wasn’t enough.

Maybe Jack hadn’t only wanted to speak about faith and love when he spoke about Dean’s heart. Maybe he also meant that _truth_ was important.

‘I need you’ was no longer enough. It was true, it had always been, but it wasn’t the whole truth.

So Dean leant over and whispered, his lips caressing Cas’ ear in an intimate kiss, “I love you, Cas.”

And he said it in his mind and in his heart too, praying it to Cas, in the hopes that Cas would hear.

And Cas opened his eyes. His beautiful blue eyes, in which Dean always saw the entire universe and faith and hope and love and everything he wanted and everything he needed.

Dean was so relieved that he allowed the tears to run down his cheeks.

“Cas,” he whispered in awe, caressing the soft cheek that was feeling warm again. “Cas. You son of a bitch.”

And he kissed him.

Sure, they had to hurry, but they had both waited long enough for that kiss. And right now, Dean felt powerful enough to tear down any cosmic entity that would try to rip Cas away from him again.

Cas’ lips were chapped but soft and pliant under his. For one moment, Cas seemed too stunned to react, but then Dean felt his hands grasp his neck and pull him closer and Cas was kissing him back, sucking on his lower lip like there was no tomorrow. It sent little electric shocks through Dean’s spine. _Fucking finally._ It felt like Heaven.

They pulled away, out of breath, their foreheads touching, their breaths mingling.

“You son of a bitch,” Dean said, half-laughing half-scolding. “You _can’t_ say things like that and then sacrifice yourself away. You complete idiot. I love you so much.”

“It can’t be real,” was Cas’ answer. He looked stupefied and a little out of it still.

“It is,” Dean said, and he kissed him again, just to prove it was. This kiss was softer, less desperate. “You feel it?” he asked.

“Yes,” Cas whispered back against his lips. It sent shivers down Dean’s spine, the way he could feel Cas’s breath on his lips. “But it can’t be true. You can’t--”

“Can’t what? Love you back?” Dean asked.

“Yes.”

“Of course I can. And I do.”

Cas shook his head. “It’s a dream. You’re not Dean. You’re a nightmare sent by the Empty to torture me. Go away. I don’t need you.”

Dean’s heart broke a little. What had the Empty done to Cas? Did Cas really believe that Dean couldn’t possibly love him back?

Had Dean been so good at hiding it all this time?

“No,” he said ferociously, and he kissed Cas again, forcefully, pressing him tight against his body, a hand around his waist and the other on his neck. “I love you. I want you.” He peppered kisses on Cas’ lips each time he paused. “I’m yours.” Kiss. “I’ve always been yours.” Kiss. “You have my heart.” Kiss. “You can have your happiness, Cas.” Kiss. “You can have me.” Kiss. “All of me.” Kiss. “I’m yours. I’m yours. I’m yours.” Kiss. “I love you so fucking much.”

“Dean,” Cas whispered back, and all of a sudden, all resistance left him and he was abandoned in Dean’s arms, soft and relaxed. “ _Dean_.” Each of Dean’s kisses was suddenly reciprocated with passion, and each of Dean’s sentences was punctuated with a sigh.

“I love you.”

“Dean-”

“I want you.”

“Dean-”

“I need you.”

“ _Dean-_ ”

They had to come back quickly, because Cas’ pretty sighs were not meant for this place. In Dean’s room, on the other hand--

“Let’s get back home, right?” he whispered, punctuating each word with a kiss.

“Please, let it be real,” Cas answered in the same fashion, his voice raspy.

“It is real. _We_ are,” Dean answered. Cas opened his eyes again upon hearing that, big and blue and beautiful. He saw it in Cas’ eyes, the moment when Cas remembered that very sentence he himself had said to Dean a few weeks prior, the moment when Cas knew for sure it was not just a pretty dream, the moment when Cas lost himself in Dean’s eyes.

“Dean…” Cas said again, and this time his tone was one of wonder and marvel as the truth sank in.

(Dean couldn’t help but wonder if Cas often had dreams like those, since he had been pretty sure it was all a dream. But that was a question for later.)

Dean caressed Cas’ cheek once again, and got up, propping Cas up as he did. “C’mon. We don’t have much time. Dunno where this Empty bitch is. We have to get you back.”

Cas was still looking at him as if he were too good to be true. If Dean was honest… he kind of felt the same thing. “Cas?” Dean asked. “You with me?”

Cas shook himself out of it. “Yes. I’m with you, Dean. Let’s go.”

* * *

It shouldn’t have been that easy. And yet, it was. Perhaps the Empty was busy doing fuck knows what. It was all too easy. It would probably blow up in their faces spectacularly later on, but Dean couldn’t get himself to care. The only real thing, right now, was Cas’s hand in his own as they walked towards the rift. Cas’s fingers, warm and pressing his own fervently. Cas’s hand in his own, something he’d never thought he could get. But Cas loved him, as Dean loved him. It was real, it was _theirs_ , it was all Dean ever wanted, and he wouldn’t let it go.

So what if he held Cas’s hand so tight that it could bruise?

Still, when they made it to the rift, Dean couldn’t help but feel relieved.

He turned to Cas. As he did so, he couldn’t help but caress the skin of Cas’s palm, just because he could. “You ready?”

Cas’s eyes were no longer hazy or stunned; they were focused and determined. Cas briefly looked down at their joined hands, and then he looked up and smiled. “Yes, Dean.”

They tumbled through the rift and landed brutally on the floor of Dean’s room.

Dean winced as he landed on his back -- that was painful -- and immediately propped himself up on his elbows to look round on alert. But the black rift disappeared immediately, and soon nothing of the Empty was left in his room. Jack and Miracle were nowhere to be seen -- knowing Jack, he’d probably taken Miracle out to play. The Bunker was silent, and the numbers on Dean’s alarm clock read that Dean had been absent less than an hour.

And Cas was there, real and alive.

Dean looked up to Cas’s face above him, as Cas propped himself up a little. Now that he was certain that they had both come back in one piece, everything hit him with the strength of a truck going full speed. How Cas had fallen on him, how their legs were tangled, how close Cas was.

Oh, that felt perfect.

Cas was looking at him as if Dean was the best thing he’d ever seen. He had propped himself up but he hadn’t disentangled himself from Dean’s embrace. Not that Dean wanted him too.

Dean couldn’t help but smile.

“Hello, Cas,” he said.

Cas smiled back. His eyes were searching Dean’s face, looking at his eyes, then at his mouth, then at his eyes again. “Hello, Dean,” he answered, his voice soft and barely more than a whisper. His smile was beautiful.

Cas was happy, Dean realised, and damnit if he wouldn’t do _everything_ to make sure this beautiful smile lit up Cas’s face (and lit up the whole room) more often. Like, everyday. At every moment. Because -- _wow_. Dean wasn’t a man of many words but Cas always stole the few words he had nevertheless. And right now, Dean was speechless.

Thankfully, he had other ways to communicate, now.

“Cas…” he sighed. His hands trailed up along Cas’s arms until they reached his face. They were both trembling now. Cas was looking at him, mouth open, eyes wide. Dean was no longer propped on his elbows, and his half-sitting half-lying position would have been painful if Cas’s arms hadn’t automatically wrapped up around him.

So far, it didn’t feel very different from their usual post-resurrection hug. But Dean -- Dean _wanted_ it to be different.

Dean caressed the shoulders, and then reached the neck, his breath hitching when he felt the soft skin and the pulse there. Cas’s heart was beating like mad, he could feel it. Dean’s heart leapt in his chest in answer.

Then he was cupping Cas’s face, caressing every inch of it. “Fuck, I love you so much,” he said.

This time, he couldn’t say who leant in first. Their lips crashed half-way, making Dean moan. Cas was devouring his lips, quite literally. Dean felt like he was a tasty treat that Cas couldn’t get enough of, and fuck it if he didn’t love this feeling. He bit Cas’s lower lip, playfully, and Cas licked his in retaliation, making Dean moan once again.

He felt Cas smile against his mouth. The little fucker.

Dean loved it.

They had to break the kiss to breathe. Dean had forgotten that oxygen existed. As soon as he was breathing again, he attacked Cas’s lips with renewed vigor, and Cas welcomed him with open arms. Dean’s hands left Cas’s face to grip his neck and his waist and pull him closer, impossibly closer.

“Dean,” Cas moaned, and _that_ made something hot and fluttery coil in Dean’s stomach. This moan was so _beautiful_ and _filthy_ it shouldn’t even be legal.

So he retaliated by pushing his tongue against Cas’s mouth, demanding entrance. Cas was only too eager to let him in.

Dean gasped as their tongues touched for the first time.

 _Fuck_. That felt even more amazing.

Cas’s hot tongue exploring his mouth, lavishing it… Dean sucked on Cas’s tongue, as an experiment, and Cas moaned against his mouth, once again.

Well. That was something he’d have to do again. As often as possible.

He just couldn’t stop kissing Cas. Biting, sucking, licking, cherishing, there were so many things to do. It was a whole new world for Dean, a new kind of Heaven, and he knew he would never be able to leave it, ever.

His heart was pounding in his chest. He was holding Cas so close that he could feel the tremors in Cas’s heartbeat too. Cas was everywhere. Dean’s ears were full of his gasps and moans and soft whispered ‘Deans’. He was overwhelmed with the smell of Cas: ozone like the impossibly powerful being he was, honey like the sweet, adorable angel he was, and something intoxicating that was just simply Cas. And Cas’s taste, _God_ , Cas’s taste. Nothing compared to that; no words came to mind. And the touch of him under his hand -- the skin of his neck and the tingly hair he was petting…

No alcohol had ever inebriated him like that.

“Cas…” he sighed, panting his name as they broke the kiss once again.

“Dean,” Cas answered in the same answer, resting his forehead on Dean’s.

One of Dean’s hands left Cas’s back to come and cradle Cas’s face, exploring it. Every inch of skin, every wrinkle, everything. He caressed the swollen, red lips with his thumb, shivering when Cas kissed his finger. He petted his cheek, marvelling when Cas rested his head in his hand. His hand that was covered in so many people’s blood, his hand that was made to kill and torture, his hand that Cas chose for loving instead of hurting. This hand that Cas loved and wanted.

This hand that was now free to cherish Cas, if he wanted to.

“I love you,” Dean said. “I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner.”

Cas opened his eyes, and smiled. “It’s okay, Dean.”

“We lost so much time.”

“I could have told you, too.” Cas pulled back, leaving Dean to miss the feeling of Cas’s forehead against his. But then Cas hugged him tight, resting his cheek against Dean’s. “It took me time to realise that it was love. And then -- I didn’t think you could love me back.”

“It took me time to accept that about myself, too,” Dean confessed. He felt ashamed, but it was Cas. Cas knew everything about him -- the good, the bad, the hidden, the unspeakable. “And after that, well, I didn’t think you could love me either.”

He nuzzled Cas’s neck, dropping a light kiss on the skin there. Cas inclined his head, giving him easier access, and that’s how Dean found himself dropping kiss after kiss on Cas’s neck, trailing higher and higher.

Cas laughed when Dean bit his earlobe, but he gasped when Dean licked at the juncture between his ear and his neck. And when Dean tried to lick and kiss his jaw, Cas _moaned_.

Fuck, but Cas was moaning like a porn star. Dean found himself hardening in his pants.

He pulled, slightly embarrassed. Cas might love him, but Cas was probably not interested in sex. He was an angel after all. He had had sex with that Reaper back when he was human, but Cas as an angel had never shown _interest_ in anyone.

Dean was about to apologise, when he caught Cas’s look. His pupils were blown and dark, and Cas had a _look_ about him -- something wild and demanding and _lustful_ that stole Dean’s breath away.

“Keep going,” Cas said in a huskier voice than usual that sent heat to Dean’s stomach and made his cock even harder.

“Yes,” Dean dutifully answered when he regained his ability to speak.

And he obeyed.

He went back to Cas’s neck, licking and biting and sucking on the spot that had made Cas gasp. Cas hissed when he bit him for the first time, and he gripped Dean’s shoulders tight. “Dean,” he moaned, and Dean couldn’t stop, not when Cas moaned his name in such a sexy, sultry voice, and when his grip made Dean ever hotter and harder.

When he pulled away, he saw that he had left a rather impressive lovebite there. Good. Cas was _his_. Of course, the mark would probably fade pretty quickly, with all the angel healing and what not, but somehow, Dean doubted it, because Cas could have magicked it away already and yet the hickey was still facing Dean, the red proof that Cas was his and he was Cas’s.

“Don’t stop,” Cas whispered in his ear, sucking on his earlobe, because apparently his angel was a devious little minx who learned _very_ quickly.

“Not planning to,” Dean answered, stealing another open-mouthed, messy kiss before going back to worshipping Cas’s neck and drinking in Cas’s moans.

Cas’s fingers had found their way beneath Dean’s t-shirt and they were caressing his stomach and his ribs as Dean lavished his angel’s neck. Dean moved to give him better access to his chest -- damn, these fingers on him were everything -- and that’s when he felt it: a rock hard cock against his thigh.

 _Cas’s_ rock hard cock.

He pulled away again, panting. “Cas…” he said breathlessly. He couldn’t say anything, though, because Cas was kissing him furiously. When he finally pulled away, Dean said, his voice throaty, “We should move to the bed.” He hesitated, then added, “If you want to. We don’t have to--”

“Do _you_ want to?” Cas interrupted, his hand still drawing circles on Dean’s ribs and making him shiver.

“Hell yeah,” Dean said. “More than anything. But you--”

“--have wanted that for a very, very long time,” Cas confessed, his hands trailing downwards, on Dean’s stomach, and then near the zip of his pants.

“I didn’t know angels could be horny,” Dean said, puzzled.

Cas rolled his eyes. “Did Gabriel or Balthazar strike you as particularly prude?”

 _Oh_.

“Don’t mention your brothers when we’re about to have sex, Cas, it’s gross.”

“You simply don’t want to admit that I’m right.”

“You’re insufferable,” Dean huffed.

“And you’re stubborn.”

“But you love it,” Dean added, winking.

Cas’s eyes went soft. “I do.” He gave Dean another kiss, soft and light this time. “What I mean is that… angels can feel desire. I just don’t, unless it’s you. Because… because it’s _you_.”

The way he said that little word, ‘you’... As if it encompassed more than a simple word could ever hope to mean… as if Dean was more than words could say…

Dean closed his eyes as a wave of warmth washed through him. Cas wanted _him,_ and him only. That knowledge felt almost forbidden; too good to be true.

“Take me to bed, then,” Dean whispered. “‘Cuz I love you too.”

Cas’s smile was impossibly large as he stood up and helped Dean up. His grin felt even better on Dean’s lips when the back of Dean’s knees hit the bed and they stumbled into bed together.

Dean landed on his back once again, but this time the soft mattress cushioned his fall. The best thing, though, was Cas landing on him. Feeling their bodies so close, so connected -- that was pure bliss. Even if Cas accidentally elbowed him in the stomach and his knee hit Cas’s leg rather violently.

“Ouch,” Dean let out. “We’re gonna have to work on that, huh?”

“I guess,” Cas answered. They were face to face, and Cas was looking at Dean’s lips in a hungry way that made Dean’s pants even tighter.

They kissed again, so giddy they were trembling. Dean bit Cas’s lower lip in a decidedly non-sexy way, and they hit their teeth, and the kiss was generally too sloppy, but Dean couldn’t bring himself to care because it was _Cas_ and that simple fact made the kiss better than any he’d ever had. There was more happiness in a single, clumsy kiss shared with Cas than Dean had ever felt. It was _Cas’s_ lips on his and Cas’s hands all over his body and Cas’s breath mingling with his own and Cas’s heart beating that hard for him and being loved by Cas and loving Cas -- all of it tastier than honey and holier than Heaven, more potent than whiskey and more glorious than beating God.

They laughed uncontrollably as Dean tried and failed to remove Cas’s trench coat in what he had intended to be a smooth, sexy movement.

“I’ll do it,” Cas suggested, shrugging the trench coat off.

But Dean seized its sleeves and helped Cas out of them. “I want to undress you,” he said, and then he felt stupid saying that. _Why_ on Earth did he have to spill gooey chick-flick shit like that?

But Cas looked at him very seriously then, and he was panting, and his eyes were dark, and he said “Yes, Dean. Yes,” in such a turned-on voice that Dean no longer felt stupid. He felt seen, and heard, and wanted for what he was, stupid and sugary and everything.

So he kissed Cas again, frantic and clumsy, because he just couldn’t stop kissing his angel now that he had the right to, and he set on to the task. He threw the trench coat away, kissed away Cas’s protest at seeing his precious trench coat treated with so little care, and went on to undo the tie despite his trembling fingers. Was he trembling because he was too eager, or because he was afraid? A little bit of both, probably.

They had to team up to undo the buttons of Cas’s shirt. Cas’s fingers were trembling just as much.

“Why are you trembling?” He had to ask. “Are you-- we don’t have to do this.”

“I just want you too much,” Cas answered, open and earnest in a way Dean could only dream of being.

It must have shown on Dean’s face, because Cas caught his hand then, raised it to his face, and kissed it. That hand that Dean would never have hoped would be allowed to touch and love Cas -- that hand that still felt too dirty and undeserving to Dean… Cas kissed each knuckle of it, slowly, tenderly, looking Dean straight in the eye.

“Cas-” Dean gasped.

“Don’t be afraid,” Cas whispered.

“I’m not. I just think… I just don’t know…” And he didn’t even know _how_ to say it. _I just don’t know how to love you properly. I just don’t know what I’m doing. I’m afraid I’ll make you run away. I’m ashamed because I know I’m not good enough. I’m ashamed because I want to tell you so many things and I don’t know how to be as honest as you are._

“We’ll learn together,” Cas said, caressing Dean’s cheek with his free hand. Did all Dean’s doubts show on his face? Or did Cas feel the same nagging uncertainty? How could Cas act so confident if he felt the same way?

_This is your problem, Dean. You have no faith._

“Okay,” Dean answered. “Okay.”

And he finished removing Cas’s shirt, feeling… well, perhaps he didn’t feel more confident, but at least he knew Cas had faith in him, and that was enough.

He forgot all about his doubts when he saw Cas’s naked chest for the first time, though. All this toned skin… these tempting muscles… this Enochian tattoo on the ribs -- a wonderful location to pick, Cas couldn’t have chosen better… these dark nipples… Holy fuck. And that was all for Dean to touch and kiss and caress? _Holy fuck._

“Dean?” Cas asked. Dean was probably staring.

Yeah. Well. He had reasons to.

In a quick movement, he seized Cas’s shoulders and pinned him on the mattress, finding himself on top. “Hi, Cas,” he said, grinning.

Cas’s only answer was to laugh.

He stopped laughing pretty quickly though, when Dean’s hands started roaming on his chest, exploring the stomach and the pecs and the clavicles.

“You’re so hot,” Dean whispered reverently. “You’re beautiful.”

“Well, technically it’s Jimmy’s--”

“Shut up. You’re perfect. I love your body because it’s _you_ , okay. I don’t have the hots for Jimmy Novak, I have the hots for _you_ , dumbass.”

He looked up at Cas, only to see the same uncertainty and lack of confidence that polluted his own thoughts. How weird was that, that Cas was able to look him in the eye and pour his heart out and reveal his love in all its beauty but was still so unsure that Dean loved him for himself?

_The self-hating angel of Thursdays…_

No way. There was no way Dean would let Cas believe he wasn’t loved just as much as he loved Dean. No way he was letting Cas hate himself.

“Together,” he reminded Cas. The word kind of came out from nowhere, but Cas nodded slowly, thoughtfully, and Dean was sure he understood what Dean meant.

Dean was shit with words. He’d always been better with actions. Show, don’t tell. Maybe he couldn’t tell Cas that he meant the world to Dean, and that he filled every hole in Dean’s heart and in Dean’s life, and that without him Dean was nothing more than an empty shell, and that Dean wanted him to stay in his arms forever and never leave.

But he could _show_ it.

And, well, Cas just happened to be sin incarnate, lying on the bed like that, his hair ruffled and his eyes mad with lust and love, and if Dean just wanted to worship him… well, two birds with one stone, uh?

He tentatively replaced his hands with his mouth.

The first contact of his lips with Cas’s skin was electric. It was nothing compared to what Cas was going through, though: he gasped aloud when Dean kissed his stomach.

 _Interesting_.

Dean started to drop kisses everywhere on Cas’s torso. His soft stomach. His abs. His navel -- this one made Cas laugh and gasp at the same time. His sternum. His clavicle. His heart.

He was growing more and more daring, leaving open-mouthed kisses instead of pecks, and then licking the warm, toned skin, and then sucking on it softly, encouraged by Cas’s soft moans and whispered “Deans.”

Certain now that his ministrations were _very_ welcome, Dean decided that maybe he could try and kiss one of Cas’s nipples. They were erect and pebbly already, Dean noticed with a smile. _Good_. It made him less hesitant to put his mouth on it, and to give it a light, experimental lick.

Cas started and moaned. “Dean!” he let out, breathlessly.

“Look whose nipples are sensitive,” Dean answered mischievously. “My, my, Cas. Won’t that be fun?”

“Yes, yes, please do,” Cas was quick to answer. It was a barely consistent answer, and that almost made Dean laugh, but he had a task to accomplish first and it was a very serious one.

Licking, sucking, biting, nibbling -- as it turned out, Cas loved all of that. He writhed under Dean when Dean sucked on it, and moaned his name every time Dean’s tongue rolled on the sensitive flesh, and his back arched when he gave an experimental bite. He reached to the other nipple with his hands and rubbed it lightly, only to discover that Cas really, _really_ loved that. He squeezed, and pinched, and made the nipple roll under his thumb as he kept lavishing the other one with his tongue, delighting in Cas’s increasingly louder moans.

A very tempting possibility was budding in Dean’s mind: would he be able to make Cas cum only with nipple play? Now that was something Dean would give anything to try. And, he realised with a smile, he could do that now. They had time. They were together.

He couldn’t help but wonder at how loud Cas was. That was a turn-on: his cock was growing harder with every of Cas’s moans, and Dean knew he was spoiled for any other sound now that he had heard the music of Cas’s pleasure. Would Cas scream when Dean would put his hand on his cock? When Dean would lick and suck on his dick? When Dean would enter him-- when _Cas_ would enter Dean? How would Cas’s orgasm sound like?

He had to stop right now. His cock was feeling like it was about to explode.

“Why are you stopping?” Cas growled. His voice was louder than usual.

Dean couldn’t help but smile, happy with himself. “Because I don’t want you to cum right now, you dumbass. We still have other things to try.”

“Like what?” Cas asked, sounding interested.

And, well. Just thinking of it all made Dean blush. But if Cas could abandon all restreint in Dean’s arms, so could Dean.

“I want,” he said a little breathlessly, “I want you. All of you. I want to touch you, and taste you, and-- and…” He wanted to say ‘make love to you’ but that sounded too cheesy. He knew he’d end up being cheesy at some point, because he was holding the love of his life in his arms and that would make him all sugary and lovey-dovey, he had no doubts on that; but now it just felt out of place. But he couldn’t say ‘I want to fuck you and I want you to fuck me,’ because it wasn’t that, it was _more_ than that, it wasn’t a quick, unimportant fuck, it was bigger and better. “I want to be in you, and I want to feel you in me,” he eventually settled for. And, fuck, that was even worse, he’d let out too much.

Except that Cas was looking at him in a decidedly fond _and_ turned-out way, and… perhaps Dean could say what he wanted, after all.

“I want you,” he finished, rather lamely.

“I want you too,” Cas said. He grabbed Dean’s legs and brought him closer, and suddenly instead of lying on Cas Dean was straddling him, and their erections were touching-- oh _God_.

(No, not God, you can’t call your adopted son in the middle of sex, no, no, no.)

Whatever Dean wanted to say was lost when he felt Cas’s hard cock against his. “Cas,” he moaned helplessly. He wanted to move, he didn’t dare to.

He couldn’t help doing it in the end, though. His hips rocked softly, almost against his wish. His cock rubbed against the length of Cas and it was so good, so perfect, that he couldn’t help doing it again. And again. And again.

“Dean,” Cas whispered, almost frantically. His hands grabbed Dean’s hips, and Dean was now riding Cas, and he couldn’t tell whether it was Cas who was rocking Dean against him or if Cas was just holding him or if maybe they were moving in sync. It was frantic, it was messy, it was too much and too little, it was perfect; it was Cas moaning his name over and over again and Dean groaning and being unable to stop and the friction between their cocks and Cas’s body between his thighs -- Cas was going nowhere, Cas was securely held there -- and everything was hot and--

He was good, it was so good, but if they kept going he’d come in his pants like a teenager and that wasn’t exactly how he planned his first time with Cas to go.

Cas must have felt the same thing, because all of a sudden Cas’s hands were all over him, fumbling to remove his shirt, his movements so halted and trembling that Dean just knew how close to cumming Cas was, and how he didn’t want it to end that quickly either.

They removed Dean’s shirt and t-shirt together, sending them at the other end of the room without a care. They couldn’t stop rocking their bodies together though. Then Cas’s hands were hovering over his tented jeans. The simple _feeling_ of Cas’s light fingers was _so good_.

“Cas,” he whispered.

“Dean,” Cas answered in kind as he unzipped Dean’s pants. Dean had to lift himself up to help Cas remove the pants. The loss of Cas’s cock left a bitter absence, and that was all Dean could focus on until Cas said, “Dean, I believe you’d rather remove your shoes.”

Dean blinked, and roared with laughter. His cock was hard, and he was so close to cumming, and he wanted more, more, more, and his shoes were in the fucking way. Damn.

Cas looked at him, shaking his head fondly. “I can’t believe I forgot that,” Dean laughed. Fuck, that was so embarrassing. “That’s a mood-killer right there,” he mumbled. He moved away from Cas and sat on the bed (trying to ignore Cas’s soft sigh of regret) to remove his shoes and his socks, and his halfway-down pants since he was at it. “You should do the same,” he advised Cas. “Or we’ll have the same problem in a few minutes.”

He swore he heard Cas grumble, “If I had known sooner how eager you’d be to have me naked--” He didn’t catch the end of his sentence, though.

Once Dean was done with his shoes and socks, he turned around to see that Cas had also removed his own pants. They were both in their underwear now. Dean could see the bulge on Cas’s front. Cas had always made him feel hungry and thirsty at the same time, but that was nothing compared to the sight of Cas almost naked and hard for him.

Dean had to lick his lips, and he saw Cas’s eyes follow the movement. Now that he was thinking of it… well, that was something Cas did often.

What idiots they were.

“Where were we?” he asked.

“You know very well where we were,” Cas answered.

“Are you _pouting_?”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

Cas rolled his eyes to the back of his skull, and his only answer was to pull Dean closer and to slip his thumbs under the waistband of Dean’s underwear.

“Don’t believe this is the answer to everything,” Dean warned. He stepped out of his fallen underwear, feeling oddly intimidated. He had never felt unsure of himself, but it had been a long, long while since he’d had sex with anyone, and this was _Cas_.

As soon as he saw Cas’s lustful eyes trailing up and down his body, taking him in fully, and focusing especially on Dean’s crotch, he knew that he shouldn’t have worried.

“Isn’t it?” Cas said in a husky voice.

He had a point.

“No,” Dean said. He wasn’t so sure of that, but whatever. All that mattered now was Cas’s hungry eyes on him. He felt his cock harden under this gaze and butterflies spreading in his stomach, and his heart drumming in his chest.

Cas stepped up, ready to-- to what, Dean didn’t know, because he stopped him. “Nope. You, too. Naked. I mean.”

Soon enough, Cas was out of his own underwear, and Dean could take him in in his entirety. His strong thighs that could probably crush him -- _yes please_ \-- and his glorious cock, hard and long and thin and red, and all for him. His for the touching, his for the tasting, his for the taking-- Dean’s head spinned with all the ideas of what they could do.

“I want to do so many things to you,” he heard himself say. “ _With_ you, I mean.”

“Me too, Dean,” Cas answered. His name rolled on Cas’s tongue in a way that screamed of sex and love and passion and veneration and lust all at the same time, and Dean couldn’t wait anymore: he threw his arms around Cas’s middle and pulled him in for a hard, passionate kiss as they fell into bed again.

There was nothing but naked skin under Dean’s own, and that was Heaven -- Heaven. The only thing that could make it better--

“Can I?” he asked, his hand almost touching Cas’s tempting length.

He was answered by a frantic, “Yes, Dean, yes, please.”

He didn’t have experience with men, he had never done anything like that and the only dick he’d ever jerked off was his own, but when he gripped Cas and felt the weight of him in his hand, all he felt was joy (and horniness, too, but that was something else). Maybe feeling joy when touching someone’s dick was a bit weird, but no one could quite understand what Dean felt -- the true happiness in making love with the being you love with your entire soul and in having the chance to bring him pleasure, to be one with him, to _finally be there_ after all this time.

He stroked Cas’s cock, slowly, rejoicing in Cas’s sighs of pleasure. There was already precome on the tip, and Dean decided to use it as a natural lubricant. When he brushed his thumb against the tip, Cas gasped and moaned, and Dean just _had_ to do it again. Just like he had to bring his other hand to fondle Cas’s balls, just to hear those noises again -- this was a new kind of moan, deeper and sultrier and _rawer_. And then he had to stroke more slowly, because Cas seemed to enjoy it; he had to roll his thumb on the head, and he had to--

He lost all focus when he felt Cas’s warm fingers around his own cock, stroking him and fondling him, and, _oh fucking Hell this was so good-_ -

“Cas,” he moaned. “ _Cas--_ ”

The rest was all blurry. All he knew was that Cas was caressing him, or stroking him, or how do you even call it when it’s passionate yet full of love and tenderness? And he was doing the same to Cas; and they were going at it quicker, and quicker, and quicker. It was becoming messy and frantic and Dean knew he should be more coordinated and better at jerking Cas off because Cas deserved the best first time ever; but Cas was whimpering, “Dean, Dean, Dean, _Dean--_ ” without stopping and he seemed really into it, and Dean was doing the same with Cas’s name…

But he wanted a little bit more, he thought. He pulled his hands away, and before Cas had the time to protest he pushed Cas on the pillows until Cas was laying down. He grabbed Cas’s face and kissed him like there was no tomorrow. Cas’s hands released his cock as well, and Dean soon felt them on his shoulders, caressing and scratching lightly as they kissed and rocked against each other.

Dean hesitated, and then he raised his hand, tentatively… and Cas’s hand joined his, interlocking their fingers together, making Dean feel _loved_ and _held_ and _safe_.

Their naked cocks against each other’s… yes, _that_ was good, that was better than when they were clothed… it felt intimate, to have Cas’s throbbing cock against his. Maybe grinding wasn’t the most romantic thing in the world, but it was everything to Dean right now. They kissed and kissed and rocked and rocked, they couldn’t stop, and it was so amazing that Dean came just like that, spurting all over Cas’s stomach, and feeling both ashamed and turned on for doing so. His mind went blank and there were stars and next thing he knew he was lying on Cas and Cas was stroking his hair and whispering “I love you, Dean, I love you, I love you.”

That was when Dean realised he was crying.

Cas’s thumbs were wiping away the tears, softly, and wiping tears should never feel like a loving caress, yet here they were.

“Why are you crying?” Cas asked, visibly worried.

“Because I love you,” Dean answered. Why bother lying? He was Cas’s already. He had nothing to hide from Cas.

The tears were rolling down his cheeks, taking with them a burden Dean had never known was so heavy. He was feeling so light, so loved, so at peace right now. This-- this was what he was supposed to be, this was where he was supposed to be, always.

Was it what it felt like to love and to be loved like this? So absolutely, so completely? So powerfully that Cas had defied destiny for him and Dean had found his way in nothingness to find him?

Then why had he always thought that it was something to be ashamed of?

He rose his head, slowly, meeting Cas’s blue eyes. Cas was crying a little, too. Like he had when he had said ‘I love you’ the first time, just a few days before.

But Cas hadn’t cummed, Dean realised belatedly. He could still feel Cas’s hard cock, so hard that he couldn’t fathom how Cas hadn’t orgasmed already.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to neglect you,” he said.

Cas started to protest, but Dean was a man with a plan.

He crawled down until he was face to face with Cas’s erection. He licked his lips nervously. That was something he had thought of often, first watching some hot guys and then when he thought about Cas late at night, and the fantasies had become more and more invasive until chasing them away became a futile effort and he had just accepted that it was something he dreamt of doing to Cas. But doing it for real… What if Cas didn’t like it? What if he wasn’t good at it?

Well, he’d never know unless he tried it. It was _Cas_. It was safe trying, it was even safe failing.

He gave Cas’s cock an experimental lick, and was rewarded both by the taste -- damn, he liked the strong smell and the heady taste, damn -- and by Cas’s muffled scream of “Dean!”

Either he was very gifted, or Cas was very sensitive. He’d lean towards the second one. Experience would come later.

He licked at Cas’s head, playing with Cas’s balls all the while. Then he dropped a kiss, and thought maybe he could…

He put the head of Cas’s cock in his mouth. It was too soon to swallow it whole, he knew he’d gag, but for now, simply sucking away at the head seemed to be enough for Cas. There was plenty of pre-come already and Cas was making filthy noises and his cock was throbbing… Cas’s hands in his hair, trying to be soft and to caress but unable to contain his tremors and his _need_ for Dean’s mouth, were a turn-on. If Dean wasn’t spent he knew he’d be rock hard and ready to go again.

“Dean, Dean, I’m about to--”

Dean gave a final lick and dropped a final kiss, and replaced his mouth with his hand. He wasn’t totally ready for Cas to cum in his mouth, not yet, not until a few lovemaking sessions down the road; but watching Cas come by his hand was already the best thing Dean had ever seen. The way Cas threw back his head in pleasure, eyes closed and mouth open, screaming “Dean!”... This was a picture that would forever be engraved in his memory, and cherished.

Dean lay a few minutes on Cas’s chest, listening to Cas’s heart beat like mad while Cas was breathing heavily, his body limp. When he stood up, Cas growled, “Stay here.”

“Trust me, we need to be washed out,” Dean answered. He came back from the bathroom with a wet towel and he wiped Cas’s chest covered with both their come -- a thought that was oddly sexy.

Then, because Dean was too tired to think or do anything, he slumped down next to Cas, burying his head in the crook of Cas’s neck. Cas wrapped his arms against him automatically. Damn, he was a cuddler. He was perfect in every way, wasn’t he?

They fit into each other like two pieces of a puzzle, Dean thought vaguely as he was drifting away. They didn’t even have to try and find a nice position, they were already perfect the way they were.

“I love you,” Dean whispered against the pulse point in Cas’s neck. Would he ever get tired of saying it? Probably not. He wanted Cas to hear it everyday. He wanted Cas to know it as a certain truth, something that would always be the realest thing in their lives. He wanted Cas to never think again that he wasn’t wanted or wasn’t loved or couldn’t have what he desired most. And he, Dean, was no longer able to shut up now that his barriers had been broken down by this angel who was -- most inexplicably -- in love with him.

“I love you too,” Cas answered, kissing Dean’s temple.

Dean was tired, but he felt the butterflies in all his body all the same.

“Don’t ever do anything like that again,” he added nevertheless.

“Making love with you?” Cas sounded offended.

“No, that you can do again. Actually, please, do it again every time we can.” Dean dropped another kiss. “I meant sacrificing yourself. Dying. Thinking I don’t love you. All that. Don’t do it again. Stay.”

“I don’t want to leave,” Cas assured him. “I’ll stay.”

“Stay forever.”

“I promise, Dean. I promise.”

“You don’t know-- you don’t know how hard it is without you,” Dean explained sleepily. “I just love you too much.”

“I know that now.” Cas was drawing circles on his arms, drowsily. Then, after a beat: “Is that real?”

“Yes.” Dean pulled him closer, held him tighter. Breathed him in. “This is all real. _We’re_ real.”

“Good,” Cas sighed, and then he fell asleep in Dean’s arms.

Dean opened his eyes again to admire the angel asleep in his arms, this unique being who loved him, this wonderful angel who was his, and he thought that perhaps Cas was wrong. There was happiness in being, and in simply loving, and in saying it, but the greatest happiness of all was still having. Having Cas in his arms, and having his love.

* * *

They took an embarrassingly long time waking up the next morning, firstly because they slept in late -- Dean had never slept so well in his life -- and secondly because they couldn’t stop kissing and tasting each other and discovering the other’s body.

Seeing Cas naked in the shower was a turn-on, Dean discovered, as was seeing him in Dean’s clothes -- a t-shirt and a flannel shirt and jeans that Cas had enthusiastically agreed to wear.

When they finally made it into the kitchen, the first thing he saw was Jack giving Miracle some food from his plate (the boy took after him, it seemed) and saying very seriously to Sam, “I didn’t know I wanted a dog, but now I think it is one of the best things in life. Miracle is amazing, don’t you think?” He was signing all the while for Eileen to understand.

Sam looked up when he heard Dean’s gleeful “Heya, you three!” Then he did a double take when he saw Cas next to Dean, his eyes comically open. He blinked once, twice. He opened his mouth, in disbelief.

“Hello, Jack. Hello, Sam,” Cas said, smiling.

Jack looked up and beamed. “Cas!” He stood up and threw himself in Cas’s arms, the picture of the grieving son who had _finally_ found his dad back. Sam joined in the hug, laughing and smiling and crying, and Eileen’s smile was impossibly wide.

“Cas, how--” Sam asked when he broke the hug. “How did you-?”

“Jack,” Dean answered, ruffling his boy’s hair proudly.

“Dean,” Jack answered at the same time.

Sam frowned, and Dean saw the precise moment when he took in Dean’s and Cas’s hands, locked together; and then the way they were standing close to each other; then Cas’s clothes; then the gloriously red lovebite on Cas’s neck; and the moment when he pieced it together with the noises he had probably heard during the night. Dean waited, embarrassed and a little bit stressed out; but Sam, after flushing very red, broke into a large smile and said, “Of course. I’m so happy for you guys.”

“Finally,” Eileen laughed.

A little bit later, as they were all eating the messiest yet best breakfast Dean had ever had, and Sam was telling Cas everything that had happened in his absence and Cas was petting Miracle with wonder and Eileen was adding her own comments in sign language and Sam and Cas were laughing at what she was saying, and Dean was thinking this was the happiest he’d ever been, Jack leant over and said with a big smile, “I told you your love would be enough.”

* * *

**The end!**

**or...**

**is it the beginning?**

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this fic, maybe you will like some other Destiel fics I wrote!  
> saying goodbye (is death by a thousand cuts) is a post-confession fic in which Dean makes a deal with the Empty to get Cas back, and has to recognise Cas in the Empty even though he can't see or hear anything.  
> I went to hell last night in which Cas wakes up in the Empty because Dean went to save him. Then Dean takes care of him. :) 
> 
> If you liked this fic, please leave a comment or a kudo!


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